


The Ghost in the Godswood

by squidproquo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, F/M, Ghosts, Prompt Fill, SanSan Russian Roulette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2447927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidproquo/pseuds/squidproquo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor encounters the ghost of Ned Stark. Written for the SanSan Russian Roulette challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost in the Godswood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maracuya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maracuya/gifts).



> Prompt: "Sandor and/or Sansa encounter(s) Ned's ghost - and post-mortem Ned Stark has become a total SanSan fan."
> 
> The wording of this prompt made me think it could be either serious or funny... I went for a more serious interpretation, but if you'd like a funny version I'm happy to write that too :)
> 
> Much thanks to LadyCyprus, who assured me this didn't massively suck.

Sandor Clegane spent entirely too much time in the godswood for someone who didn’t worship the Old Gods… Or any gods at all. But it was quiet and it was peaceful, and sometimes a pretty little bird would appear singing a pretty little song. She was different when she was here, more melancholy, more real, relinquishing the mask she wore at court and showing her gods her true face. And him, unknowingly. He was all too aware he’d never see that side of her otherwise.

He didn’t know why he wanted to.

“I know,” a voice said, the words echoing, but only in his head.

“Who’s there?” he demanded, rising, scanning the clearing where he’d settled to wait. “Show yourself!”

The air rippled before him, distorting the godswood like the waves of heat he’d seen once in Dorne, and then a man he recognized stood before him. But it wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be possible.

“Lord Stark...?”

“Yes,” the apparition said, long face serious as ever.

Sandor blinked, rubbed his eyes, opened them, but the former Hand of the King still stood before him. “But… You’re dead.”

“Yes.”

Shaking his head, he glanced down to the wineskin at his feet. It was nowhere near empty, yet… “Gods, I must be drunk.”

Stark chuckled, the smile sitting strange on his grim northern countenance. “For once, no.”

For once, Sandor felt afraid. If this was truly Eddard Stark back from the dead, surely he’d come to take his revenge on one who had slaughtered the men he’d brought south, cut them down as they’d fought to save their lord…

“Again, no,” the man said, though his smile had faded. “I could but I won’t. Because I know.”

“You know what?” Sandor asked, fear deepening.

“I know why you come to the godswood, why you watch my daughter.”

Brighthairsoftskinsweetmouthgentlecarefultighthotwet… _I’m a dead man._

Stark narrowed his eyes at Sandor, lips pursed as though tasting something sour, and Sandor flushed. “Don’t tempt me, Clegane.”

“Look, if you’ve come from beyond whatever frozen hell your old gods offer to tell me to leave the little bird alone…” He ached at the thought of forgoing these glimpses of her, but knew he had no right to them. “I will. She deserves better than the likes of me spying on her.”

“That’s not why I’ve come,” Stark said. “I don’t want you to leave her alone.”

These words shocked Sandor even more than the fact that it was a ghost speaking them. “I don’t understand.”

“Before my death, I told my daughter I’d find her someone worthy of her, brave and gentle and strong –”

“Missed the mark on that with Joffrey, didn’t you?” Sandor scoffed. His hands clenched tight at his side as he wondered if one could strike a ghost; the former Hand deserved it for that mistake.

“No need,” Ned said wryly. “I lost my head for it, after all.”

It was true enough, yet Sandor still wanted to punch the man. His chest felt tight at the thought of the little bird safe in the arms of some brave and gentle and strong knight.

The apparition shook his head. “No, not a knight. You. I found you.”

Sandor laughed. “Now I know I’m drunk.”

“You’ve watched over her, cared for her, as I’ve been unable to do,” Stark said quietly.

“You should never have brought her here, nor left her alone.”

“I know. And I know you love her, whether you realize it or no.” There was a strange look on Ned’s face, gray eyes dark with regret, sadness. “I want you to take her away, keep her safe.”

“This is… Not happening.”

“It is,” the ghost countered, glancing over his shoulder. “She’s coming. Promise me. _Promise me_ , so I can rest.”

Uncertainly, Sandor nodded. “No one will hurt her again, or I’ll kill them.”

The corner of the man’s lips turned up just slightly. “She loves you too, or she will. Whether _she_ realizes it or no.”

The air rippled again and Lord Stark was gone, returned to wherever he’d come from. There was the sound of someone approaching, and a sweet little song on the breeze.

Sandor smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, I swear, I will be updating "Turncloak" next. My real life has been a little intense lately so a tiny oneshot was just what I needed but now it's back to TC!


End file.
